


Just Like Heaven

by quimby



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Anal Sex, Graphic description of underage masturbation, M/M, Richie Tozier Cries During Sex, Rimming, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22321141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimby/pseuds/quimby
Summary: Eddie smiles down at him, running his nails soothingly across Richie’s temples. “I used to imagine us like this,” he confesses, sheepish.Richie groans through his sniffling, “You used to imagine a fat, forty year old comedian rubbing snot all over you?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 251





	Just Like Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags and feel free to message me with any questions :)
> 
> My apologies to pretty much everyone but most especially The Cure.

“How do you want to do this?” 

Richie’s face is red. Or what Eddie can see of Richie’s face that’s not covered with his hands; Eddie presumes the rest of it is red, too.

“Is this a nightmare or real life? I honestly can’t tell. Did I somehow stumble into the darkest timeline?” 

“Rich,” Eddie moves closer to stand between Richie’s spread thighs where he sitting at the end of their neatly made bed. “Please? Tell me what you want.”

Richie widens his fingers, peering up at Eddie from behind the shield of his hands. “Why?”

“Because we always do what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good, too.”

Richie takes a deep breath and lets his arms drop down to his sides. His face is still flushed, but the red is receding to a pinkish hue. 

Richie’s hair is a mess of cowlicks, he’s sweating visibly through his t-shirt, and Eddie is hit with the familiar pang in his chest that his younger self attributed to annoyance, but he now knows is something much deeper and more complicated. 

Richie wraps his palms against Eddie’s hipbones, fingers curling into the waistband of his navy blue briefs. Richie tugs at him with little effect then tries again with more force until his face is mashed against the ribbed cotton of Eddie’s undershirt.

“What if what I want is too weird for you?” Richie mutters, voice muffled through the cotton. 

Eddie’s heart constricts for the second time in as many minutes. 

“Baby, look at me.”

Richie shakes his head against Eddie’s stomach.

Eddie shoves forward, placing one knee and then the other on the bed so he’s straddling Richie’s thighs. He’s a big fan of this position because it puts dick real close to Richie’s dick, and it makes it impossible for Richie to hide from him. They sit in silence like that for a minute, staring each other down.

Richie breaks first.

“Fine! Christ. I want to try roleplaying. Are you happy?”

Eddie can feel his smile spreading involuntarily across his face. He tries schooling his expression into something more serious, and nods.

“What kind of roleplay? Naughty schoolboy? Sexy secretary?” Eddie’s brain races though countless scenarios.

Richie shakes his head and grimaces. “Us,” he clarifies; “I want to roleplay as us when we were, erm, teenagers.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s feels a hot rush of arousal wash over him. “Okay. Um, yes. Let’s do that.”

“Really?” Richie asks, eyes widening comically behind his glasses. 

Eddie’s dick is ready to go, but he’s still trying to wrap his brain around the mechanics of the thing;“Like how old are we talking. Fifteen? Sixteen?”

Richie nods and shrugs his shoulders  at the same time. “It doesn’t matter when. All that matters is...” he trails off in embarrassment, so Eddie takes one of Richie’s hands and presses it to the front of his briefs. Richie inhales sharply at the contact, his fingers molding reflexively around the bulge in Eddie’s briefs, feeling him out.

“Does it feel like I’m not into this?” Eddie asks.

“No?” Richie’s voice cracks over the word.

“Then why don’t you tell me what you want, sweetheart, and I’ll make that happen for you.”

Richie takes a big breath. Exhales. He shoots Eddie a wary look, then slumps his big shoulders in defeat. 

“I want it to be our first time.”

_  
  


Richie turns off all the lights in their bedroom except for the lamp on his side of the bed. Eddie lays quietly in the middle of the king-size mattress, eyes anxiously tracking Richie’s progress.

Richie knows the skittish kitten routine is all part of the act, that Eddie is playing it up for his benefit, but it feels close enough to the real thing that Richie’s breath catches painfully in his throat.

“Is this light okay?” 

Eddie scrunches up his nose in consideration then nods slightly. His hands are clenched up in the hem of his undershirt, trying and failing to conceal the erection tenting his briefs.

Richie climbs onto the bed next to him and lays down. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” he murmurs, but Eddie is already shaking his head.

“Cut it out, Richie. I told you I want to.”

His voice sounds just right. Smaller somehow. More indignant.

Richie can’t stop himself from reaching out and tracing the familiar planes of Eddie’s face. He has lines now, creasing up around his eyes and mouth. But it’s all the same to Richie. Now and then. Young and old. Eddie is his person; he’s loved Eddie his his whole life. 

Eddie breaks character for a moment, catching Richie’s hand in his own to squeeze reassuringly. He pushes his chin out a bit, urging Richie on.

“Okay,” Richie says quietly to himself, then louder, “Okay!” He rolls over, too eager, onto Eddie, crushing his body the way he imagines he would have at sixteen if he’d been given half a chance.

Eddie laughs up at him, twisting slightly in discomfort.

“You’re a jerk, Tozier!” he wheezes, as Richie uses his position to the utmost advantage and digs his fingers into all Eddie’s most ticklish spots.

“You’re all mine, Eds Spageds.” Richie growls, dusting off his old movie monster voice for the occasion. “Now! What  am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you want, I guess.” 

Richie’s dick has been so hard for such a long time that the words make him twitch in his boxers, smearing precome everywhere. 

“Could— maybe you can tell me what you think about, when you jerk off? Eddie looks up at him from beneath his eyelashes, playing shy. “Do you think about me?”

Richie’s throat hurts. He can’t seem to make words happen, so he nods.

Eddie smile starts in his eyes and dawns slowly across his face like the rising sun. “I do, too. Do you want to know what I think about?”

Richie nods again like an idiot.

Eddie’s gaze darts nervously away, then back again to Richie. “I always try really hard not to think about you, how you stare at me and make up dumb excuses to touch my legs—“ he cuts himself off, eyes searching Richie’s face for a denial that doesn’t come. “But I can’t  stop thinking about it,” he admits, voice choked.

Richie is so aroused he’s hyperventilating from it, equal parts nervous and excited. 

Eddie waits a beat, then draws him down by the collar of his tee shirt and mutters, breath hot against Richie’s ear, “I can’t stop thinking about your dick. Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” Richie scrapes out, somewhat hysterically, pushing up and over sideways to make room between them on the bed. He removes his boxers with trembling hands and lays back down for Eddie’s inspection.

He has another moment of hyper-awareness where he knows logically that his body looks a lot different now then it did at sixteen. He knows this is nothing Eddie hasn’t seen already. But Richie’s heart thumps nervously in his chest all the same. He holds his breath.

Eddie reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering over Richie’s cock. 

Eddie glances up at him quickly, then down again at Richie’s painfully engorged dick. Finally, the pads of his fingers make contact, gliding over the clear slick and rubbing too softly under the crown.

“You’re so big,” Eddie murmurs, wondering, “Is it always this purple?

Richie’s dick throbs, blurting more precome over Eddie’s fingertips. 

Eddie makes a small, inquisitive noise, bringing his hand up to his face and, Jesus Christ, licking Richie’s slick from his fingers. He scrunches his nose for a second before his face clears and he proclaims, “That’s not so bad. Kind of sour?” 

Richie is dying. This is the worst torture he has ever known and it’s his own fault. 

“Can I taste more?” Eddie asks, all innocence. But Richie can see forty-year-old Eddie laughing at him from behind the gleam in his eyes.

Without waiting for an answer, he ducks lower between Richie’s legs, belly-down on the mattress. From this angle, Richie’s is looking at Eddie past the length of his own dick. 

Eddie leans closer, exhaling moist breath over Richie’s aching balls. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie murmurs conspiratorially to Richie’s groin. “I hope it’s okay.”

“Yes,” Richie manages, tangling his fingers in the soft brown hair that’s curling softly at the nape of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie gives him another knowing, laughing look, before leaning forward to lap delicately across the drooling tip of Richie’s dick. 

Richie feels it the same as if he was a teenager with a hair trigger. “Oh fuck. Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie. Eds. You gotta stop or I’m gonna come all over you.”

Eddie keeps dragging the rough of his tongue over the veins on the underside of Richie’s cock for another moment, before lifting off again and smiling with delight.

“Really?” 

A hot wave of embarrassment washes over Richie. “Please,” he begs, “I want to see you, too. 

That gets Eddie scrambling up on his knees, hovering over Richie.

“Help me!” He gripes, trying to push down his briefs with one hand. Richie does his best to help, but mostly succeeds in getting in the way. Together they finally manage to get Eddie’s boxers off, and Eddie’s cock springs free, beautiful and pink, bobbing slightly under it’s own weight. Richie knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it.

Eddie makes a noise low in his throat, ripping Richie’s attention away from his dick. Eddie looks...shy. 

“You’re so hot,” Richie rushes to reassure him. “I want you so much; all the time. Don’t you know that?” 

Eddie shrugs, embarrassed. Richie is gratified to see that the scene is finally getting to Eddie too.

Eddie flips back on the bed, playing nervously with the hem of his undershirt, a perfect mirror of his earlier pose. Except this time his cock is bare and leaking prettily against his lower belly. 

Richie is on him in an instant, pulling off his undershirt and kissing him with a lifetime’s worth of desperation. Richie has been starving for Eddie for thirty something years, and Eddie in this moment, laid out naked in their bed, is nothing short of a feast; Richie won’t deny himself another second. 

He breaks the kiss and ducks down to lick a sloppy trail up Eddie’s cock and nosing through the wiry hair at the base of it.

Eddie’s hands scrabble for purchase on Richie’s shoulders as he braces his heels on the bed so Richie can get a better angle. 

“Oh  fuck ,” he groans as Richie leans down further and laps messily at his perineum, his dusky-pink asshole.

Eddie pleads nonsense, while Richie eats his ass with all the abandon of his sixteen year old self. 

He remembers the first time he’d learned you could make someone feel good with your mouth. Almost instantly his mind had been filled with images of himself using this new knowledge on Eddie. He’d pictured his mouth on Eddie’s jutting hipbones and his tan little nipples. His mouth watered as he imagined the soft weight of Eddie’s cock that he’d spent countless summer days stealing glances of beneath the clinging, wet material of Eddie’s swim trunks. 

By sixteen, Richie had consumed enough pornography that he had a pretty good idea where else he could put his mouth on Eddie’s body. He wasted much of the Spring Break of ‘93 alone in his bedroom—music blasting, doors locked tight—while he stripped his cock raw and imagined getting inside Eddie in every possible way.

And now, thirty years, an alien clown, and one miraculous resurrection later, Richie is doing it. Richie is allowed. 

The tears streaming down his face don’t register until Eddie is hauling him up by his ears, his eyes searching and wild.

“What— why are you crying?”

Richie just shakes his head and cries harder, burying his face in it’s favorite place to hide; the soft, scarred skin of Eddie’s stomach. 

“Shhh,” Eddie murmurs, “It’s okay, I’m alright. We’re both here. We made it.”

Richie only cries harder at that; his steady stream of tears turns to great big hiccuping sobs he can’t suppress.

“Rich? Are you—“ Eddie trails off, seemingly at a loss while Richie continues to weep pathetically on top of him. 

Eddie shifts gears; “Can I tell you what  I used to think about, when we were sixteen?”

Richie shrugs and shifts slightly so he can rest his cheek on Eddie’s hip, tipping his tear-stained face upwards toward the sound of Eddie’s voice.

Eddie smiles down at him, running his nails soothingly across Richie’s temples. “I used to imagine us like this,” he confesses, sheepish. 

Richie groans through his sniffling, “You used to imagine a fat, forty year old comedian rubbing snot all over you?”

Eddie pinches his left ear  _hard_ and continues talking as if Richie hadn’t interrupted.

“I imagined us as grown-ups, in a house that was all ours. Where nobody, not even my mom, would be able to find us.” Eddie’s voice sounds distant somehow, like he’s slipped backwards into a memory. “I used to have nightmares so bad I’d wake up terrified and shaking and, well, it was the only thing that calmed me down enough to fall back asleep; imagining us running away to make a new life together. Somewhere far away from Derry.”

Eddie blinks hard, coming back to himself and the present moment. His eyes refocus on Richie’s face, and he smiles Richie’s favorite, dimpled grin. “Are you gonna fuck me now or what?” 

Richie snorts in amusement and hauls himself up to kiss the corner of Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie wrinkles his nose slightly, but allows it. Eddie allows all sorts of shockingly unsanitary things in bed, so long as Richie is the instigator. 

“I cried my dick soft,” Richie admits.

“Oh?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and Richie can feel his hand wriggle down between them to grab hold of Richie’s flagging erection.

Eddie gives Richie’s junk a gentle squeeze. “I want you to fuck me with this big dick you’re always bragging about. Please, Rich. It’s my first time. Don’t you want to make it good for me?” 

Richie shuts him up with a sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and desire and Eddie doesn’t even bother with his usual complaints about ass-to-mouth, just opens up and accepts Richie’s tongue, which licks deeply into his mouth; fucking him with it.

It’s so nasty that Richie’s dick has no choice but to get with the program, fattening up with each insistent stroke of Eddie’s palm. 

“Fuck,” Richie moans pitifully, breaking the kiss as Eddie’s strokes turn slick with precome. Richie can feel himself trembling. They pant into each other’s faces for a moment as they both struggle privately to regain some semblance composure. 

“C’mon,” Eddie murmurs, his hand making wet sounds that fill their quiet bedroom as he works over Richie’s dick. “Fuck me. I know you’ve been thinking about it. Please, Richie. Put your dick in me. I want to feel—“ 

Richie reaches down and grabs Eddie by the wrist, jerking his arm away and pinning it up over his head while Richie bears down on him and looks his fill.

Eddie’s gasps, his dick bobbing up off his belly with every pulse of his heartbeat. 

“You really wanted me, when we were kids?” Richie gets out between clenched teeth. 

“Yeah,” Eddie admits, breathless.

“You said you thought about my dick. Did you ever think about it inside you?”

Eddie shudders and nods. “Get the lube and I’ll show you.”

Richie scrambles to the bedside table, wrenching the drawer practically all the way out in his haste to find the lube. He grabs the bottle and dumps a generous amount in Eddie’s outstretched palm.

Eddie gives him a considering look, then flips over on his knees and elbows, ass up.

“Did you really—“

“Yes,” Eddie hisses, his hand appearing between his legs to stroke lube over his exposed hole. “I had to bury my face in my pillows to hide the all the noise I made.” 

Richie feels like he might pass out while he watches Eddie work two, then three slick fingers inside himself. Eddie’s asshole stretches tight, the pink skin fading toan obscene red where Richie can see Eddie’s hole gaping open between his fingers. Can see the hot, wet space where he’s going to put his cock. 

Eddie cries out into the pillows when he presumably locates his prostate, and that’s the final straw. Richie’s vision goes hazy with lust and he shuffles forward on the bed to pull Eddie’s fingers free of his body and replace them with his cock.

Eddie makes satisfied little noises as Richie fills him up halfway. Richie goves them both a minute to adjust, stroking mindlessly at the tight ring of muscle that clings around his dick where he’s splitting Eddie open. A few heartbeats later, he wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and hauls him back into his lap and all the way onto his dick. 

Eddie moans louder, his head thumping back on Richie’s shoulders as he writhes through the sensation. 

“Good?” 

“Yes, god! How about you? Is this the way you imagined it?”

Richie’s dick gives a little throb where it’s sheathed entirely inside Eddie. He puts his forehead to the back of Eddie’s neck and nods, commanding himself with every ounce of willpower left in his body not to come that very instant.

Eddie takes a deep, shaking breath, then he rises up slowly with his knees and sinks back down all the way on Richie’s cock. Richie grips him by the hips and hangs on for dear life.

Eddie seems to have forgotten himself and the point of this whole exercise, lost entirely to anything that isn’t Richie’s dick. 

He’s making those involuntary, throaty noises that come moments before his orgasm, so Richie forces himself to focus, rabbiting his hips faster and reaching around to grab hold of Eddie’s cock; stroking him in time with his thrusts.

Eddie shakes apart, trembling as Richie milks him through his orgasm, marveling at the way Eddie just writhes in his arms and lets Richie do whatever he wants.

When Eddie starts to sob with overstimulation, Richie tips him over onto his face and fucks his limp body into the sheets. Richie has been on edge for so long he’s almost surprised when his orgasm crests. He comes deep inside Eddie; they way he’d imagined his entire life, since the very first time he’d learned this was something he could do with his dick.

“Fuuuuuuuck” Eddie groans weakly into the pillow as Richie pulls carefully out. He watches, fascinated as his come drips out in gluey strands from Eddie’s fucked-open hole. 

Without a thought, Richie brings his mouth to that tender, puffy flesh, licking himself from  Eddie’s skin.

Eddie cries out, first in disgust, but then in arousal as Richie licks deep inside him. Richie picks back up where he left off, reaching up to grab at eddie’s soft dick and work him to a second, screaming orgasm.

Richie feels like he’s waking up from a dream. 

Eddie has shifted over onto his back and is staring dazedly up at their ceiling. Richie tries his luck with another kiss, but Eddie blocks him this time with a hand to his forehead.

“Richie! Don’t fucking kiss me again until you wash your mouth.”

Richie barks a surprised laugh and hauls himself up and to the bathroom.

“And get a washcloth while you’re in there! Youneed to come back and clean up your mess.”

Richie startles somewhat at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Jesus Christ. He never even bothered to take his shirt off. 

His hair is a mess, his glasses smeared with sweat, and he looks happier than he’s ever seen himself. He smiles dopily at his own reflection and flips the lights on his way out. 

Back in the bedroom, he runs a wet flannel gently down the crease of Eddie’s ass.

“You are so gross,” Eddie complains weakly into the sheets, but he doesn’t bother to protest when Richie throws the washcloth aside and runs his fingertips gently across the puffy, abused flesh of his hole.

“Does it hurt?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Eddie cranes his neck to smile at him, then rolls over into his back and makes grabby hands until Richie lies on top of him like a human blanket.

Richie can’t help but wonder; “Did you mean it?”

Eddie’s brow furrows with confusion. “Mean what?”

“That you used to imagine us together like this? As adults, in our own house?”

Eddie nods, his face scrunched up in confusion. “Didn’t you know? I was fairly obvious.”

“I didn’t know shit,” Richie admits. It hurts when he thinks back on all those years he laid awake in his childhood bed, wishing for Eddie with every fiber of his being, while Eddie laid awake in his own bed, wishing for Richie too.

“Well. You were always slow on the uptake,” Eddie flicks him lightly across the forehead. “But you know now.

Richie stares at Eddie in wonder. He marvels at the man he loves and who loves him in return; naked in their bed, alive and beautifully, gloriously whole.

“I do,” he promises. 

fin.


End file.
